


Skipping Rocks

by fancywaffles



Series: An Azure Dawn [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Awkward First Times, Canonical Character Death, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Felix Hugo Fraldarius is Not Immune to Emotion, M/M, Minor Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Pining, Pining Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancywaffles/pseuds/fancywaffles
Summary: Felix doesn't really get what the point of coupling off or sex is for... there are more important things to focus on. There are also things he'd rather not focus on, so he gives it a shot a couple of times.(or, felix is a virgin who can't drive)
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Original Character(s), Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: An Azure Dawn [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654411
Comments: 21
Kudos: 109





	Skipping Rocks

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was going to be sort of funny piece based on this off-hand section in [Blue Sea Honeymoon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639562)
>
>> Felix could tell that was a line Sylvain was going to enjoy using for a while. “An infantryman and an archer. They were both pretty good in combat so I figured…” He shrugged.
>> 
>> Sylvain’s face was doing some interesting contortions. “You fucked people because they were good at fighting?”
>> 
>> They were both attractive, but Felix figured a physicality and a shared interest would help. He didn’t think Sylvain would take that well, so he merely responded with a shrug. 
> 
> Unfortunately, writing Felix pining for Sylvain for years is my favorite thing ever so if that's your thing have 10K of that (+ happy ending that goes after [Barnacle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22932424)). 

_Imperial Year 1183 - Verdant Rain Moon_

Felix felt a tug in his chest when he arrived at the Gautier camp. The tug turned into a pull when he saw familiar red hair and heard a boisterous laugh rise above the group of soldiers conversing loudly. Sylvain must have felt eyes on him, because he turned slowly with an inquisitive and alert expression that belied his usual frivolous candor. Once his eyes landed on Felix he broke out into a wide stupid grin—it felt like he’d thrown his weight into that pull in Felix’s chest and it was impossible to keep from moving closer.

“Felix!” Sylvain said. He reached out and slapped Felix on the arm, grasping Felix’s forearm almost like he was going to pull him into a hug. He must’ve thought better of it because he only squeezed Felix’s arm instead. “What are you doing here?”

“You asked Fraldarius for backup,” Felix said.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think—” Sylvain shook his head. “Never mind.” He looked Felix up and down probably doing the same thing Felix was and examining the changes that had occurred over the course of the months since they’d last seen each other. “Growing your hair out?”

It was still too short to pull back, but Felix had managed to pin at least the top half out of his face, otherwise it was a shaggy mess. “Yes.”

He wasn’t prepared for the warm beaming smile that transformed Sylvain’s face, or the additional squeeze on his arm. “Great. I missed it long.”

Felix felt his face flush with heat and looked away. Sylvain laughed at him and then gestured him forward to show him around the camp. It was suffocating having his complete attention after so long of having barely a letter a month. Felix tried not to enjoy it as much as he did, but there was little to enjoy these days, so it was difficult to resist.

“Any sign of a trail?” Sylvain asked, once they’d made it around the camp and settled in.

“I’m not here about that,” Felix said, more sharply than he intended. Sylvain’s easy and casual hand that had continued to fall on his shoulder, his arm, and once his knee with a squeeze pulled back. Felix tried not to miss it. There was no time to miss things in this war.“You think Cornelia is trying to make a deal with Sreng?”

“The Margrave does,” Sylvain said, with some annoyance.

It made sense. Cornelia was nothing if not inventive in the kinds of trickery she pulled to outwardly project the idea of a Faerghus Dukedom, all the while seeding chaos between formerly united lands so that they were all split between different points of attack.

“What do you think?” Felix asked.

Sylvain’s smile was small as he tilted his head down and he looked up at Felix through thick dusky eyelashes. “I think setting it up to look like Sreng pisses Sreng off at the border and gets Gautier distracted from the Itha Plains.”

“You think she’s doing something there?” Felix asked.

“I think that’s the easiest way to attack Gautier, short of going through Fraldarius—which Goddess knows she’s been trying—” He cut off with a caustic snort as if it were laughable to even consider Fraldarius defeat. Then Sylvain shrugged dismissively and rubbed his hand against the back of his head. “Doesn’t matter. Either way, we’re getting overwhelmed in the northeastern front.”

Felix wasn’t skilled at expressing himself, especially these days. He tried to think of a way to tell Sylvain that his instincts seemed right and he should trust them, but before he could consider the words, Sylvain’s attention wandered.

Sylvain whistled low. “Oh, I did _not_ see that you brought some new healers.” He nudged Felix with his elbow and gave a stupid looking grin. “Want to stab me so I can have one of the prettier ones fix my injury?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Felix muttered. Sylvain laughed, like it was a joke.

Then he rose to his feet, squeezed Felix’s shoulder, and walked off to flirt his way into the Fraldarius Holy Battalion.

Felix touched his own shoulder absently, chasing after the warmth Sylvain’s hand had left there.

&

Felix didn’t see Sylvain until the next morning, when the troops were packing up for a full engagement. He had a relaxed and easy smile on his face and wiggled his eyebrows at Felix. It made it all too clear he’d had good luck last night.

Felix tried to grit through it. It had barely bothered him at the Academy it was pointless to let it affect him now. If Sylvain wanted to fuck around to distract himself from the war, then…

Felix jerked a nod towards Sylvain and continued getting his gear together.

Felix was still struggling with the responsibility of leading an entire battalion of mages into combat.It was easier when he didn’t have to think about the different places he needed to direct them and making sure to keep an eye on their formations. He missed Byleth’s steady presence telling him where to go— _on his own_ so he was the only one he needed to think about or look out for.

“You gotta loosen up, Felix,” Sylvain said, when he was close enough. “It’s like you’re constantly sucking on a citrus rind.”

“We’re at war.”

“And?” Sylvain asked and then stretched his arms out over his head. He wasn’t even in his armor yet.

“Not everyone feels the need to flit into distraction and abandon their duties,” Felix said.

Sylvain’s mouth flattened to a thin line and Felix regretted saying it—he geared up to apologize—but then his best friend scoffed and shook his head. “You need to get laid, Felix.”

Felix felt like his ears were on fire and also like he wanted to stab Sylvain in the leg with one of his swords. “You’re an imbecile.”

“Yes, but a relaxed one,” Sylvain taunted. He didn’t pat Felix on the arm as he passed, only said, “Something to think about, Fe. Maybe the lucky lady can pull out whatever stick is firmly up your ass. Some guys are into that.”

Felix ground down on his teeth and resisted the urge to respond. He had actual work to do.

&

Sylvain, unsurprisingly, had been right about Sreng not being involved. It was clear once they’d actually engaged with the troops that it was mostly Cornelia’s forces. The Srengi there were irrelevant in terms of an actual cooperative movement. The battle hadn’t been easy, but it had been mostly in their favor. Cornelia’s troops didn’t know the landscape was well as Gautier soldiers and the extra Fraldarius troops overwhelmed them.

There was a celebration at the Gautier camp afterwards. Felix wanted to skip it completely, but Sylvain harassed and guilted him until he showed up. Sylvain slung his arm around Felix’s shoulder and immediately introduced him to a few women Felix already knew.

“Felix undersells himself,” Sylvain said in a stage whisper. “He’s handsome, even more so with a less tragic haircut, and whip smart. Plus you saw him fight out there, right?”

One of the girls, Alyce, was a Fraldarius healer. She gave Sylvain a suspicious look while the other two leaned into his flirting with tittering noises.

“Loosen up,” Sylvain said, jostling Felix with the arm over his shoulder and causing his flank to touch briefly against Felix’s own. 

Felix shrugged his arm off, feeling overheated and crossed his own arms over his chest. “Do you always have to…”

Sylvain raised an eyebrow, as if expecting Felix to slide into an insult about his insatiable nature or inability to stop from flirting for four seconds at a time, let alone take anything seriously. “Uurgh,” Felix said instead and turned to walk away.

“Felix!” Sylvain called out, but Felix kept walking. He decided he didn’t want to go back to his tent. It was too close to all the celebratory joviality he didn’t feel apart of—instead he relieved one of the soldiers on watch and took their post.

His fingers tapped against the hilt of his sword and he tried not to think about anything, except the surroundings, and what his next move would be. He’d need to take the troops back to Fraldarius after this, but it would be easy enough after to meet up with the forces on the front again. Anything to get him out of the damn manor and not be forced to listen to his father and Gilbert go on and on about how the boar was still alive.

Felix heard shuffling feet behind him and glanced back momentarily to see Alyce approach. “Commander,” she said.

He jerked a nod of acknowledgment and went back to keeping watch. Alyce stood next to him. Not leaving. Fuck.

“Did Sylvain ask you to come over here?” Felix asked, wary.

“Mm,” Alyce said, unclear if she was agreeing or disagreeing. “You could get a drink with your battalion,” she suggested. “I can take up the watch.”

“No,” Felix said, and then because he tried not to be an asshole to people fighting for him, added, “thank you.”

Alyce continued to stand next to him, the silence stretching out into too many minutes to be comfortable. “What?” Felix asked, finally.

Alyce folded her arms in her robes and tilted her head at him. “Teiran socializes sometimes with the troops.”

Felix frowned at her. “You know my cousin?”

Alyce nodded. “I was stationed in the western front until they recalled us. She and your uncle were still working on establishing a base there.”

Felix couldn’t picture his cousin socializing with troops. He suddenly realized he didn’t know what month it was and whether or not she was still sixteen or if her birthday had passed.

“Teiran is still a child,” Felix said.

Alyce appeared to be holding back a laugh. “You’re, what, twenty?” She cleared her throat and added, “My lord.”

“And?” Felix asked, ignoring her slip of decorum. He really didn’t give a shit. Especially now, the outdated rules of nobility were pointless.

Alyce was still looking him over. There was something keen about the way she examined him that made him feel like one of Hanneman’s experiments. He did not like it.

“Lord Gautier said you might like some company,” she said, finally.

“Did he,” Felix said stiffly, glaring out into the woods. He almost hoped something attacked them so he’d have a chance to use his sword and not think.

“Do you like women?” Alyce asked and when Felix snapped his head towards her she was unapologetic. “I mean no disrespect, but you are… more stressed than some of the commanders I’ve worked with and Lord Gautier’s point about company isn’t the worst suggestion.”

“You’re offering yourself like—” Felix had enough sense to not finish that sentence, but still the bile was rising in his throat. “I don’t want company.”

“My company?” Alyce asked, but seemed to confirm the answer herself with a nod. “I was only asking, because you _are_ handsome and the heir to the Duchy, so it wouldn’t be difficult to introduce you to a likewise handsome girl or two who’d be interested.”

Felix scoffed. “Why aren’t you with Sylvain? He’d love company.”

“He’s had enough already, I think,” Alyce said and her smile reminded him a little of Mercedes. The thought came out of nowhere and made Felix feel brittle. He was tired of missing people.

“The rest can do as they please, I don’t have any interest,” Felix said.

“In women or in company all together?” Alyce asked. “Either’s fine. I only say, because I do also know some men who would be interested as well.”

She didn’t couch her words, which Felix would’ve respected if he wasn’t mortified by this entire conversation. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the battles ahead, rather than… that.”

“I like the brief respite,” Alyce said. “Anyway, it was only a suggestion. I’ll stand here a bit longer so Lord Gautier is satisfied I made a good attempt and will leave you be.”

Felix frowned. “You seemed to read him easily.”

“Reading people comes naturally,” Alyce said. “I come from a long line of wayseers, although the practice isn’t what it used to be. These days we’re all using our talents for hurting or healing as the cost of this war.”

“Would you rather not?” Felix asked.

Alyce seemed to think that over. “Not be at war? Yes. Me personally stepping down from it? No. I’m too skilled and I’d always think about the lives lost if I wasn’t involved. Besides,” she said, with a frown, “the things the Empire and Cornelia are doing can’t be forgiven. The way they blamed our prince and then murdered him without so much as a trial. Despicable.”

Felix stared out into the woods at nothing in particularly and felt a hand automatically reach for the hair that was finally starting to grow back.

Alyce stood with him in silence for a while and left after, as she said she would. Felix tried to think of nothing at all, but couldn’t help hear her words turning around in his mind.

&

Sylvain was in Felix’s tent when he finally switched off his watch for the night, which surprised him. “What are you doing here?”

“I lined that right up for you,” Sylvain said, almost sounding like he was scolding. “You’re wasting my efforts.”

“Don’t you have a girl to bed?” Felix asked, his voice snapped through the tent, making his irritation more apparent than he wanted it to be.

“Not at the moment,” Sylvain said, taking it in stride. He patted the floor next to him, where Felix’s bedroll was spread out. Felix sat on it and glared at him. Sylvain also took that in stride. “Are you okay?”

Felix pressed his fingers to his temple. This was unbelievable. “Not everyone has to …. entertain themselves all the time, Sylvain.”

“Might help,” Sylvain said and then winced and shook his head. “I didn’t mean _that_. I meant… look, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but Dimitri—”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Felix said, looking away from him and tightening his jaw.

“There’s rumors of a rabid beast moving through Imperial camps near the Airmid river,” Sylvain said softly.

Rabid Beast.

“I checked,” Felix said. “The trail’s cold.” Gilbert didn’t seem to think so, but if he wanted to continue the wild goose chase and waste time and resources Fraldarius needed on it, that was his and Felix’s old man’s mistake to make. It had been Felix’s mistake a time too many.

Sylvain sighed and when Felix turned to look at him, he’d sprawled out sideways on the floor, resting his head on his hand, supported by his elbow. “You really think he’s still alive?”

“Yes,” Felix said. For as much as alive… “I _don’t_ want to talk about this.”

They’d searched, but eventually they’d been overwhelmed in their territories and Ingrid had to go back to Galatea, Sylvain to Gautier, and Felix to Fraldarius. Whether or not he’d been keeping up the search on his own was irrelevant.

“What was wrong with Alyce?” Sylvain asked, genuinely curious.

“Nothing,” Felix said. “She’s straight forward and…nicely put together, I guess.”

Sylvain choked a laugh so hard that even Felix had to fight a smile. “The fucking way you phrase things sometimes.”

“Why are you so insistent on it?” Felix asked, hoping to get a genuine answer for once.

Sylvain made a face like he had a line ready, but then looked at Felix’s face and relented to something more sincere. “I don’t like thinking you’re lonely.”

“I like being alone,” Felix lied.

Sylvain sighed and turned onto his back, resting his head on the backs of his hands. “I can’t stand it.”

“I noticed.”

Sylvain snorted. “This war is—well it _sucks_ and if a warm body and a good night of fun can distract you, why wouldn’t you take it?”

Felix didn’t think about sex very often. It wasn’t really a priority amongst everything else he was saddled with and definitely didn’t sound like it would help with training. Getting off was a perfunctory physical thing that had to be done on occasion, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t take care of it himself.

Also… he looked at Sylvain, the way his jawline crested from this angle, and a small scar that was under his neck, faded among the others. There were freckles faintly dusting his nose and if Felix kept staring, he’d think about things that weren’t possible and would only torture himself.

“Not everyone has fun the way you have fun,” Felix settled for.

Sylvain frowned at that. Then he sighed in defeat and stretched his arms out. He turned again, this time on his stomach, propping his chin up with his fists. “You think I blew my shot with Alyce?”

“I don’t think you had one,” Felix said. He didn’t resist the snort at Sylvain’s offended squawk. 

&

Felix couldn’t avoid going home, since Margrave Gautier had offered some of their heartier troops to come back with him to Fraldarius in exchange for some of the healers staying in Gautier. None of those troops included Sylvain, of course, but maybe that was for the best.

An infantryman, Victor Pelletier had a different shade of red hair and a similar enough jawline. He was shorter and more broad, but his lance technique was more than passable and he had dedicated work ethic to his training.

Felix had spent the last few days of travel winding everything Alyce and Sylvain had said through his mind. He hated it and wanted to be rid of it, so he propositioned Victor.

Felix only focused the next day on the satisfaction that he’d been right. Sex wasn’t anything to think about. And he didn’t think about anything else.

* * *

_Imperial Year 1185 - Guardian Moon to Pegasus Moon_

“Maybe he needs to get laid,” Sylvain casually suggested. He was leaning against one of the logs they’d set up for seats around the fire with a stupid grin on his face. He didn’t avoid Ingrid’s kick to his side in time.

“It’s a suggestion!” Sylvain protested, catching her the second time and grabbing her boot until she almost fell off her own seat.

“It is a terrible suggestion,” Ingrid said, dragging her leg back from him.

“It is rather… uncouth for a joke,” Ashe said.

Sylvain frowned at him and then pushed himself up to a slightly more normal seated position. “I’m serious. He’s been so wound up for five years he hasn’t had any… release. It could do a lot is all I’m saying.”

“Perhaps,” Mercedes offered, far too charitably. “It doesn’t seem like he’s truly in the mood for any company lately.”

Just his ghosts.

Sylvain’s breath blew out in a loud gust. “I just wish it was like before. I could fix it before. If he was pent up—I could get him a girl at least—loosen him up.”

“You did not,” Ingrid said. She looked scandalized. As irritated as Felix was with this entire conversation, her reaction was amusing.

“I don’t set up and tell,” Sylvain said, smiling. He winked at Felix and Felix resisted the urge to throw a chestnut at him.

“It’d be nice,” Ashe said, in surprising agreement. “If it could be like a book and true love would solve any problem.”

“Sylvain is not talking about love,” Mercedes said, gently.

Ashe flustered and stood up. “I mean I know that.” He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands and then walked off, clearly embarrassed.

“You broke Ashe,” Ingrid chastised.

Sylvain responded with an uncaring shrug and then grinned when Dorothea took Ashe’s empty seat. “Dorothea, don’t you think His Highness should loosen up?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Dorothea said. She looked at Ingrid and then at Sylvain again and finally towards Felix. “Did I walk in on something?”

“Yes,” Ingrid said, while Mercedes said, “Not really.”

“We’re talking about how sex can loosen you up,” Sylvain said.

Dorothea looked incredibly bored with him. “I highly doubt that you all were.”

“We… sort of were,” Mercedes said. She’d been sewing something frivolous all night and Felix didn’t know how she could even see what she was doing with how dark it was. “Sylvain thinks Dimitri is… pent up.”

“Sylvain thinks,” Ingrid emphasized. “None of us were agreeing. He even scared Ashe off.”

“Well, Ashe is a romantic sort of course he did,” Dorothea said. “Trysts without the romance don’t work for that type. He’s less… practical than Sylvain.”

Sylvain grinned at her. With the way the firelight was reflecting in his eyes, it made him look like a predator. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Isn’t that… I mean,” Ingrid stalled in her speech when everyone was looking at her. Her face was turning red. “I mean, isn’t that _how_ it’s supposed to be?”

“Not always,” Mercedes said, not looking up from her sewing project. “A lot of the soldiers have been engaging in sexual activities in an attempt to balance out the stress caused by combat.”

“We’re running out of Moon Tea,” Dorothea added.

“There are other ways to relax,” Ingrid muttered, clearly uncomfortable.

Sylvain eyed her and Felix knew whatever he was about to say was going to get him another boot. “Ingrid, darling, how would _you_ know?”

Sylvain didn’t avoid the kick in time and was unable to catch her foot while he was swearing from the impact. Ingrid stood up with a huff of annoyance and walked off.

“I meant she is never relaxed!” Sylvain protested, rubbing his thigh where she’d gotten him. He turned and stared at Felix. “You know, like Felix.”

Felix was ready to stand up and follow Ingrid, but then Annette settled down in Ingrid’s abandoned seat. She picked up some of the chestnuts that Ingrid had been hoarding. “What are we talking about?”

“Nothing,” Sylvain said too quickly.

Annette eyed him with suspicion before she focused on cracking one of the chestnuts open. She was struggling with it, probably because she was tired—they’d needed all the healers they could get today and Annette had always been better at offensive magic. Felix tossed her a few of his already opened ones. Annette crinkled her nose and smiled at him.

Dorothea hummed a little and Felix realized she was staring at them. “We were discussing the difference been romance and good fun,” she said. Then her eyes flicked to Sylvain and raised an eyebrow. “Sylvain doesn’t think there’s a difference.”

“Hey!” Sylvain protested. “I am plenty romantic.”

Annette sighed and popped the meat of the chestnut into her mouth. “It’s not really time for romance now.” She swallowed. “Not that it has stopped _any_ of the soldiers. It’s like passing a wolf den during mating season right now.”

Dorothea laughed. “They need something to do.”

“Someone to do,” Sylvain said. The withering stare Dorothea gave him caused Sylvain to sit upright. Felix was never sure if it was the challenge that Sylvain liked, the easy flirting, or if he really genuinely liked Dorothea more than some of the others he got bored with.

That thought made the taste of chestnuts sour in his mouth. Felix decided it was time to finally get up and leave them all to this useless conversation when Byleth sat down next to him. She turned her attention to Sylvain.“Why is Ashe hiding in his tent?”

“He’s fine, Professor. I didn’t do anything!” Sylvain protested, frantic in the face of a topic _he’d_ introduced with people he didn’t want to talk about it with. “He’s—we—I—” Sylvain stood up and then jumped over the log he’d been sitting on before striding away from them.

Byleth blinked at him as he left, staring blankly in his direction. “What was that about?”

“Nothing important,” Felix said, tossing a chestnut to Byleth.

Byleth shrugged and cracked the nut with her teeth.

&

“You think I could _not_ be practical?” Sylvain asked out of absolutely nowhere. Four seconds earlier, lying in their individual bedrolls of their shared tent, Felix assumed he’d been asleep—especially considering the next morning’s incursion.

Felix rose up to stare at him, but it was too dark. “What?”

“Earlier, Dorothea called me _practical._ I could be not practical if I wanted to?”

Felix squinted, as if that would make this conversation any clearer. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Sex,” Sylvain said.

Felix groaned and laid back down again, rolling away from him.

“Feeelix,” Sylvain said, poking him in the back. “Please humor me. I can’t sleep if I don’t get this out.”

“You not sleeping isn’t my problem,” Felix muttered. He could practically feel Sylvain’s hangdog expression behind him. Then he huffed a pathetic sigh, so Felix groaned again and then flopped onto his back. “Fine. What?”

It was impossible to see the extent of Sylvain’s grin when it was this dark, but Felix could hear it in his voice. “So I met a girl.”

“How is this keeping you up?” Felix asked. “It’s not new.”

“I like her,” Sylvain said.

Felix rubbed the bridge of his nose and eye with the palm of his hand.“You always do.”

“Katarina,” Sylvain said, barreling on, as per usual. “She’s sharp witted, beautiful skin, and has this lovely long black hair. I think…” His voice sobered a little. “I think I could do it. I think I could give it a shot. Maybe marry her after the war is over.”

Felix was glad it was dark in the tent, so Sylvain didn’t see his immediate reaction to that. It was so shallow and pointless and yet Felix felt like he’d been impaled in the chest with the _Lance of Ruin_.

Felix was amazed his voice came out so even. “You said you’d rather clean Hubert’s toenails than get married.”

Sylvain laughed. “That was a good one.” Then he sighed. “I doubt I’ll have much of a choice and… I don’t know. The sex is better than normal and Kat’s really nice—actually no she’s not.” He laughed, delighted. “She’s a little mean, plus she’s in Ingrid’s Pegasi Corps so she could probably break me in half. I’d enjoy it though.”

Sylvain’s continued charmed laughter spilled into the tent, mocking Felix when it felt like it was hard to breathe. Then Felix heard shuffling, indicating Sylvain had moved. He was probably on his side now, staring at Felix. Thank fuck it was dark.

“Felix,” Sylvain said, utterly sincere. “I’m not joking with you this time, okay? I think I could really like her.”

Felix stared at the darkness of the tent ceiling, his voice was dry. “Congratulations.”

Sylvain grunted his distaste and shuffled around again, probably rolling onto his back. “You should meet her. I think you’d get along.”

“Does that matter?” Felix asked, then regretted it.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the answer. It came, soft and quiet, the only noise in the tent. “Of course, Felix. You’re my best friend.”

Felix kept his eyes closed, shoved everything down a little deeper, and said as nicely as he could stand, “then congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Sylvain replied cheerfully.

Felix rolled onto his side again, away from him.

&

Their shared tent was empty for the rest of the mission. Felix didn’t get much sleep, free from Sylvain’s harried breathing and stupidly handsome morning face. He waited like a fool every night thinking maybe Sylvain would’ve tired of her, but he didn’t.

&

And of course, Felix _did_ like Katarina, which was annoying. She didn’t hang over Sylvain like most of his girls and actually gave him shit when he tried to get her to ditch drills. It wasn’t difficult to picture her and Sylvain after the war. She’d be able to stand up to his father and would probably make a strong margravine. If they got married, maybe Sylvain would actually make something of himself and utilize the effortless way he could do… anything.

He’d probably be happy. They’d probably both be happy.

“You should come into town with us,” Sylvain insisted, during a rare break between missions. “You can’t stay here training all day.”

“I’ll eat at some point,” Felix said, dryly.

Katarina snorted softly and then put her hand on Sylvain’s arm. “Let him relax how he wants to relax.”

“He’s not relaxing,” Sylvain said, and then turned towards Felix. “Will you at least promise me you’ll use the sauna or something?”

“No,” Felix said, honestly.

This time Katarina barked out a laugh. Sylvain sighed at her and then at Felix. “All right, all right fine. Do what you want. Be miserable.”

“It’s not a choice,” Felix muttered under his breath, but they were already gone.

&

Felix was trying to study the spell-work Byleth had suggested when Sylvain unceremoniously came into his room and flopped onto his bed. Felix looked up from his book and stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

Sylvain only threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I hate women.”

A warm feeling rose from Felix’s stomach to his chest and he really hated himself for being so petty. “Are… you and Katarina no longer… doing well?”

Sylvain choked a laugh, dropped his arm, and then stared at Felix like he was the strangest thing he’d ever seen. “Doing well?”

“You came to me,” Felix said.

Sylvain threw himself backwards again, dramatically. “She flattened me.”

Felix didn’t ask any more details. He pressed his lips together to keep from saying or doing anything and let Sylvain continue his diatribe.

“I thought, here’s a woman I could maybe be with, and then… well, I got a little drunk and actually said that and she said she wasn’t a ‘cloak you try on’ and that I was playing pretend? Me?” He groaned and then shifted so his face was pressed into Felix’s sheets, his legs still half on the floor, torso twisted in a way that had to be uncomfortable.

“I didn’t even cheat on her, Felix,” Sylvain said. “I tried.”

“Were you?” Felix asked and when Sylvain twisted around enough to be on his side and stare at him, brows furrowed, he clarified, “Were you trying her out?”

Sylvain’s mouth twisted and he grunted before flopping onto his back. “Maybe. Yeah, probably. Fuck. I should’ve liked her, right? I mean I _do_ like her. I just…” He rubbed his hands over his face.

“You could focus on the war we’re in,” Felix suggested.

“Yeah,” Sylvain said, with an upsettingly deep sigh. “No point in thinking about the future that awaits until we get there. The loveless marriage to make lovely crest-babies will be waiting for me when we’ve defeated the Emperor.”

The warm feeling turned cold. “Sylvain…” Felix started, but when Sylvain looked at him he couldn’t get the words out. He turned back to his book and said, “If you’re going to stay don’t distract me.”

Sylvain made another grumbling noise, but quieted down enough that Felix could pretend to focus on the _Thoron_ glyph.

&

Sylvain’s post-breakup depression lasted two days. The newest girl was as empty headed and shallow as most of the others had been. Felix didn’t like noticing that Sylvain’s smile was easy and fake in a way it hadn’t been with Katarina.

He decided it wasn’t his business and went to train.

* * *

_Imperial Year 1186 - Great Tree Moon_

Felix hadn’t been on watch, but he’d seen the figure approach as he was winding down from late-night training maneuvers with Byleth. Felix approached close enough to gauge if it was a wandering solider or not and immediately recognized the person.

It took him three steps to be in Connal Rowe’s proximity and one to have his sword at his throat. It was pathetic he didn’t even have a weapon lifted. At least Gwendal had put up a fight.

“That solves the ‘was it east or west’ instruction I wasn’t clear on,” Connal said. He didn’t move but looked down the sword at Felix. “I’m here to speak with your father.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Why? And how did you know he was here?”

“He told me,” Connal said, dryly.

“Felix,” his old man said, harshly. “Put your weapon down.”

Felix flicked his eyes to the side to look at his father and then did as he asked. Connal rubbed the mark on his throat and breathed out. “Apologies, Your Grace. I meant to come earlier.”

“It’s more than fine,” Felix’s father said, shooting him a look as he ushered Connal forward and towards his own tent.

Felix glared at their backs, feeling distinctly out of the loop. He was too wired to sleep, so he waited outside, doing weapons maintenance. It was some hours before either of them appeared from the tent. Connal seemed to notice him and made his way forward. Felix tensed, ready for a fight.

Connal cocked an eyebrow. “Fraldarius, you must be overestimating my confidence if you think I’m going to attack you in the middle of a war camp.”

“What are you doing here?” Felix snapped. “Are you defecting from Rowe?” He couldn’t hide the disgust in his voice. Not that he thought loyalty to them was the point, but Connal had been on track to be a Kingsguard. The Kingdom should’ve had his loyalty if anyone. Or at least _not_ Cornelia.

“I defected before Rowe officially joined,” Connal said, taking a seat across from Felix, rather brazenly considering he was still holding a sword. “Your father asked me to stay and pass on intelligence. Not my first choice, but he convinced me it was necessary.” He frowned and made Felix meet his eyes. “I’m not the Gray Lion. I’m loyal to Faerghus, not Rowe.”

Felix relaxed a hair. “My apologies then,” he said.

“It’s fine. It’s been a well kept secret for a reason,” Connal said. “Less kept now, of course.” He ran a hand through his light colored hair. It wasn’t quite as blond as when they were younger, now Felix would put it at more of a light brown. It suited him.

“Are you not headed back to Rowe then?”

Connal shook his head. His hands folded to almost a praying position and he stared at the ground. “Now that Myrddin is in hand, there’s no way to safely travel back without compromising my position. I’m to join your troops.”

“You seem troubled by the prospect,” Felix observed.

It was not well lit, but there was a sharp glint still visible in Connal’s green eyes as he looked up at Felix.“I’ll fight alongside my countrymen without trouble… I just…” He sighed and then looked away. “I suppose the strategies of war fly past my head, but I don’t understand why we’re pushing forward to the Empire, while half the Kingdom still lies in Cornelia’s clutches. I thought…”

“You thought we’d be marching to Fhirdiad,” Felix finished for him. It was the only reasonable thing to assume. Of course they didn’t do reasonable things, they followed the boar.

“Might I ask why we aren’t?”

“His Highness,” Felix said, resisting the urge to spit, “is only focused on one thing and that’s killing the Emperor.”

“I thought…” Connal shook his head. “Apologies I shouldn’t speak ill of His Highness.”

“Go ahead,” Felix said. “I don’t care.”

Connal’s hands were still clenched together. “There were rumors in Rowe about him turning into a beastial thing, without care for any of Faerghus. I thought it was pure fantasy on Cornelia’s part and surely much of it is but…”

A strange feeling to finally find commiseration over the insanity of following a rage-filled shell’s orders. Even when Byleth agreed with Felix, she’d never speak ill of Dimitri—she was so… hopeful. Everyone was so hopeful. They hadn’t lived with it as long as Felix had. They’d change.

“I should find the quartermaster before I’m too tired to put up a tent,” Connal said.

He did look exhausted. “Why didn’t you go straight to do that then?”

Connal smiled a little as he stood. “Wouldn’t want your blade at my throat again. Besides, it was nice to catch up.”

“We didn’t,” Felix said, furrowing his brow.

Connal hummed. “Then I suppose we should later. Hopefully to victory after our march on Gronder.”

Hopefully.

Felix sighed and nodded, confused by the curve of Connal’s smile when he did before the other man walked off in search of stay for the night. Felix furrowed his brow, but had no time to think about what any of that meant. He stood up, set the weapons he’d been working on aside, and strode to his father’s tent.

The old man looked tired when Felix entered. He was leaning over a makeshift war-table, the map of Gronder Field spread out before him. “Your old Professor did a sharp job in putting together a strategy for our march,” his old man said, conversationally. He always wanted to ignore the truth of it and drown in niceties.

Felix rested his hands on his hips. He didn’t give a shit about niceties.“We should retake Fhirdiad.”

“Felix,” his father said, raising a hand to his temple like the thought of actually accomplishing what was due to the people ailed him. “I’m not having this discussion again.”

“You never had it to begin with,” Felix said.

His father sighed and stood up to his full height. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Felix. “What would you have me do, Felix? His Highness has made his decision clear.”

“Who cares what the boar wants?” Felix snapped. “You were more regent than Rufus for years.” Felix spent most of his time after Glenn’s death alone, while his father cared for all the things Dimitri’s uncle wouldn’t. He’d kept the Kingdom afloat and now he was abandoning it over the ravings of a mad man. “You could easily turn us around if you had any sense. We have enough troops now to take back our home.”

“Felix,” his father said, voice firm. “Our duty is to His Highness. This is the path he’s chosen.”

“You didn’t even try talking to him,” Felix said, the words bitter in his mouth. “He might listen to you.”

“Perhaps,” his father gave him, but then shook his head. “It does not matter, we’re on this path as it stands and for however long our fight takes us forward.”

“This is so fucking pointless,” Felix said. He felt as tired as his father looked.

“Go then,” his father, Rodrigue Fraldarius said to his last living son. “You do not wish to fight for your kingdom? You can leave. I won’t stop you. You are welcome to press on and abandon your country as you’d like.”

Bile rose in Felix’s throat and it took everything in him not to draw his weapon. “That has _never_ been an option and you know it. We’re all going to die, because no one wants to fucking upset what’s left of—” His breath felt sharp in his lungs and he turned around, storming out of the tent.

Felix was too distracted to realize he’d gone the wrong way. His tent was on the other side of the encampment. He tried to breathe through his frustration but the rolling feeling of dread over the coming battle wouldn’t leave. He didn’t want to die for some useless battle that wouldn’t mean anything. He didn’t want to die like…

“Felix?”

He turned when he heard Sylvain’s voice. He had his arm around a girl and started walking them both towards Felix. “Hey,” Sylvain said. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Felix said. He ignored the glare from Sylvain’s latest conquest for interrupting her night. He apparently didn’t ignore it well enough, because he missed Sylvain reaching out. His hand touched Felix’s bicep and Felix immediately pulled back. He felt sick. Sylvain still had his arm around the girl, but his face was pure confusion.

“Don’t sleep in again,” Felix said, looking anywhere else. Then he pushed off, ignoring Sylvain’s paltry protest and found their empty shared tent. He threw aside his weapons in piteous frustration and sank down onto one of the bedrolls.

His hands gripped his neck and Felix ground his teeth down. He needed to sleep. They needed to prepare for tomorrow.

Felix was still doing a poor job of falling asleep when Sylvain entered their tent. “What are you doing here?”

“Someone told me not to sleep in,” Sylvain said, loftily. He stretched and flopped onto his own (mostly unused the last few days) bedroll. “Where better than with my lovely punching wakeup call?”

He wondered if Sylvain’s latest conquest had shoved him aside or if he was doing this for Felix’s sake. “I wouldn’t punch you,” Felix said.

Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“I’d throw water on you.”

Sylvain’s laugh seemingly caught him by surprise, choking in his throat. The sound of it made Felix finally feel the tension in him ebb.

* * *

_Imperial Year 1186 - Garland Moon to Verdant Rain Moon_

“Derdriu isn’t the Fraldarius Coast, huh?” Sylvain nudged Felix’s arm. He was exhausted, they both were, but they’d won so there was a buzz of restless energy at being alive.

“Don’t get used to it,” Felix said. Sylvain was right though, Derdriu had the same salt taste to the air, but the waves were easier, the sun brighter, and it wasn’t full of memories of Glenn chasing him and Teiran down the rocky beach, while their fathers yelled fruitlessly at them to slow down.

“We’re here until tomorrow,” Sylvain said. He nudged Felix’s arm again. “Let loose, let’s go find some grateful maidens now that we’ve liberated the city.”

Felix felt his face pull down. “Is that the only thing you think about?”

Sylvain sighed dramatically and threw his hands up, turning around. “Fine, simmer in your sulking, I’ll go see if Dedue and Ashe are up for it.”

“Fuck you,” Felix said, ignoring the warm twist in his stomach at Sylvain’s responding laugh.

Felix took a breath, inhaling the salt in the air. He focused on the noise of the waves and didn’t think about Sylvain. Felix didn’t sink into the memory of how he always fell on the rocks, scraping his knees red, and Glenn would always heal him and calm him down. There was no point in drowning himself in the past or an impossible future.

It was a much less hectic after-battle scene than he was used to. There was a sense of… hope in the air that Felix wasn’t used to either. Claude handing Dimitri the Alliance territories like that was surprising, but it also immediately rallied enough troops to properly attack the Empire. And now Derdriu was a city liberated. It wasn’t exactly like Fhirdiad, that had been an entirely different sort of feeling. They’d been under Cornelia’s boot much longer than Derdriu had been under siege. Taking back Fhirdiad had meant getting back to the right path. Derdriu felt like they’d stay on it until the end.

Felix walked down towards an empty spot at one of the many docks. The waves didn’t slash violently against the shore—they were easy and slow. He settled himself down, enjoying the quiet for once.

He’d unintentionally picked a decent vantage point to see the rest of the dock and how everyone had decided to celebrate. Annette and Mercedes were laughing with a basket of something Felix bet was too sweet. There was a solider he didn’t recognize talking to them and Mercedes seemed to be leaning into his space more than she usually would. Sylvain already found his grateful maidens. Although it seemed that Ashe and Dedue had thought better of tagging along, Felix could barely see them from this far, but he was certain the very striking height difference between the two silver haired figures was them headed to the market-square.

Dorothea and Ingrid were in a conversation with a few of the Alliance soldiers. Dorothea flipped her hair over her shoulder and Ingrid turned her head towards the clearly flirtatious movement. An alliance of their own in finding husbands, Felix thought.

A waste. He also thought.

Dimitri was easy to find, even without wearing his furred cloak—Felix always knew how to find him. It helped that Byleth’s bright green hair stood out too. They were both sitting together on another dock, leaning into each other. Watching them for any longer felt like invading something private, so he turned his eye to the sea instead. The water was greener here than Fraldarius. He wondered why.

“Mind if I join you?”

Felix glanced up to see Connal, mostly free of his armor. He still had his quill slung over his shoulder, though it was empty of all its arrows. Considering they’d only just been in a battle meant he’d fought well. Felix nodded and Connal sat next to him. There was a moderately awkward pause, before he said, “My condolences are overdue.”

Felix sighed. No point in ruminating in that past either. He didn’t need to succumb to memories of his father letting him sit with him while Glenn and Teiran pushed each other into rocks either.

“It’s fine.” He was relieved at least one person hadn’t felt compelled to express their sympathies immediately after his father’s death. Even Sylvain gave him space before…

Felix rubbed at his nose—he didn’t really want to remember the night where Sylvain pitied him enough to let him weep in his arms. He turned a little more fully to look at Connal.

“Your hair is… different.” It curled around the edges. Felix thought he would’ve noticed if it was always like that.

Connal lifted his hand and threaded his fingers through it in response. “My battalion got a little bit wetter than some of the others on that first engagement. Nature made herself known and washed away any hair oil.”

Felix’s mouth twisted. “You do your hair to get rid of the curl?”

“I’m allowed a little vanity,” Connal said. He didn’t seem upset by Felix’s comment. “I suspect you don’t wake up in the morning with your hair pinned back like that.”

Felix automatically reached back towards his hair and then rested his hand on his neck instead. It was almost long enough not to need quite so much maneuvering to get it up. “That’s not the same thing. This is practical—your hair looks nice like that, it's a waste of time to change it.”

Connal’s lips pulled up and Felix realized what he’d said. He looked away from him and focused on the sea again.

“We never did catch-up,” Connal said.

“We’re doing that now, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Connal asked. When Felix gave in the urge to look at him again, his smile was small and wry.

Felix shifted a little, pressing his hand against the wooden dock. “I don’t have much to catch-up on.” Other than his father dying. “It’s been war and nothing else for almost six years.”

“Prefer the fight,” Connal said. “I hated pretending at loyalty to get information. There were a lot of people in Rowe that might’ve changed their minds had one of the Lords rebelled, but instead everyone…” He shook his head. “Apologies, I suppose I don’t have much to catch up on either.”

“Do you need to replace your arrows?” Felix asked. He felt his face twist into an uncomfortable shape as he said it. He hated trying to make conversation.

“Eventually,” Connal said. His smile widened. “Would you like to accompany me to the market-square? They opened up all the vendors, seems like it’s turning into a celebration.”

That sounded terrible. “I dislike crowds.”

“You still have to eat?” Connal asked, as if he wasn’t sure Felix ate food.

Felix glanced back and saw Mercedes walking off hand-in-hand with the solider she was talking to. Annette had disappeared and so had Sylvain and his company.

“I do,” Felix agreed, finally.

It wasn’t bad. The market-square was much more open than Felix was expecting—given his experience with the tightly packed vendors and stalls in Fhirdiad and Garreg Mach. There were buskers doing a fire dance, which was fairly impressive (he left a few coins) and a few musicians had set up. The music was nice and Connal was good company for what it was worth. He had an ease to him that made Felix understand why his father had suggested he stay in Rowe. It didn’t seem insincere and Felix had plenty of years of observation to be mindful of that sort of thing.

“So you really like my hair?” Connal asked, much later, slightly drunk off of aquatic punch.

Felix nodded, also slightly drunk. “It suits you.”

Felix wasn’t expecting Connal to kiss him, but he found he didn’t mind it. It was nice spending the evening not feeling completely left out without a training yard to distract him.

&

Felix had rarely seen a point in kissing, but he found he liked it when he did it with someone he actually enjoyed the company of. The infantryman had kissed with mostly teeth, uncoordinated, and too rough. Connal was less aggressive about it than people who had tried to kiss Felix before. He’d let Felix lead and didn’t press when he only wanted to spend time training. Connal had a passable form for lances, but his archery skills were almost at Ashe’s level. His axe skills were fairly good as well—if they’d had the time, Felix might have suggested he train as a wyvern rider.

The monastery was rife with the same kind of restless energy as had been at Derdriu. It meant Felix had plenty of time to train, while other amused themselves with frivolities. Training took priority over anything else, considering they were advancing on Enbarr in barely a week.

Felix passed on Connal’s offer to head in to town. He needed to work on his magic. Thoron was coming easier to him, but if they had to face off against Hubert again it wasn’t going to help much.

He’d _assumed_ the library would be a place to find peace, but the tittering giggles behind him said otherwise.

“You know he’s not.”

“He is!”

“Julianna, Sylvain is a playboy. He’ll dump you immediately.”

There was a noise that sounded distinctly like a cat when disturbed of its position. “From what I hear, a night with Gautier is worth a little heartbreak.”

“It can’t be as _much_ as people say—”

“Kendrin said that her legs shook off her body and she had to crawl to get out of the bed and that was just the first hour.”

“I did hear that he’s… longer lasting than some of the other soldiers.”

“Do you think it’s a crest thing?”

More tittering giggles. Felix’s head was starting to pound. He wished this was the first time he’d had to overhear something like this. He slammed his book down loudly as he stood up and then turned towards them. “We’re not going to win the war by spending all your time gossiping.”

Two of them had the decency to look ashamed of themselves, the others didn’t. One in particular gave Felix a look he really didn’t like. He grabbed his book and left, but not before hearing her say, “If anyone could do with a night of R&R it’s Fraldarius.”

Felix was so irritated when he walked back to his room that he didn’t realize the door was already partially open. Even if he had, nothing could have prepared him for the violation his eyes were subjected to.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?”

Dimitri had the fucking _indignity_ to look frustrated—like he wasn’t ass out with his pants around his ankles dick deep in their former Professor. “Felix? What are you doing here?”

“It’s _my_ room!”

The sweeping horror that swept over Dimitri’s face wasn’t even satisfying, because they were _in_ his room. How the fuck had they gotten into—Felix turned to look at his door, while the boar and Byleth finally attempted to get decent.

“You broke my fucking door.”

“Felix, I am so sorry,” Dimitri said. He sounded out of breath, Felix was going to burn the entire dormitory down. “I… your room is so close to mine I must not have noticed when I opened it.”

“You didn’t open it, you bent the fucking lock, you boar!” Felix snapped. He threw the book at Dimitri, hitting him in the chest and turned around. He was going to beat training dummies to death for the next four hours.

He made it halfway down the stairs before he heard Dimitri’s voice. “Felix!”

Felix refused to stop, but slowed, because he was incapable of anything else. Dimitri met him at the same step and then took two steps lower to put himself at eye level. Felix wanted to kill him.

“I really am so sorry, I had no idea that was your room. We were…” He winced. “Rushed?”

“Why the hell didn’t you do it in her room then?” Felix asked. “It’s on the first floor!”

“We’ve been trying to keep it private… discrete.”

Felix did not commit regicide. He breathed out hard through his nose. “Everyone. _Knows_.”

“Ah,” Dimitri rubbed his temple, like he was getting a headache. Felix hoped it was a bad one. “I am sorry, Felix. Truly. It was an honest mistake.”

Felix gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “You’re getting me new sheets.”

“We didn’t do it on the—” Dimitri must have seen the charitable nature of Felix not pushing him down the rest of the stairs to break his neck, because he cut himself off. “Byleth is trying to fix your lock. I truly am sorry.”

He was so earnest about it. Felix still wanted to murder him, but knew he’d get over it. He’d gotten over worse. “Just… _look_ where you’re at next time, for Seiros’s sake.” 

Dimitri picked at his eyepatch and Felix almost felt bad for him, before he remembered the image that would be forever burned on his own eyes.

&

Sylvain didn’t stop laughing for five minutes. He was wheezing and mirth tears were escaping the corners of his eyes by the time he almost composed himself.

Felix didn’t have the energy to kick him. He hadn’t trained that long in a while. He was bone tired and refused to go back to his room. “Are you done?”

“He _broke_ the door?” Sylvain asked. Again. Felix’s glower must have sufficed as an answer, because he coughed another laugh and then slid down next to Felix on the training room floor. “You want to crash in my room since my door works?”

“I don’t want to sleep in your sex sheets either,” Felix said in disgust.

Sylvian snorted and slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re safe, Fe. I do not bring girls back to mine. There’s no wiggle room for two people on that bed.”

“We fit,” Felix said, automatically. He suddenly hoped the training room’s ceiling would collapse so there’d be a reason for how hot his face felt.

Sylvain barely reacted. That confirmed what Felix already knew—that night hadn’t been a big deal. “I mean yeah… but it’s not like we were moving.” He emphasized the last word with a lewd hand gesture and Felix punched him in the arm. It only made him laugh again.

“I take it your room is free, because you have a new conquest?” He wondered if it was one of the stupid girls in the library.

Sylvain sighed. It was drawn out and almost as tired as Felix felt. “Try not to be too mad at Dimitri. We’re either defeating the Empire or we're done. He’s making the most of the time he has.” He glanced sideways at Felix. “You should too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you can’t get up.”

“I can get up,” Felix said. It was mostly true. “Training _is_ making the most of my time.” It wasn’t as if they’d have any second chances. It was exactly as Sylvain said. They were either defeating the Empire or they weren’t. Felix had to be better than whoever his opponent was.

“Making the most of your time should be spending it with me,” Sylvain said. “Most people would be thrilled I invited them to stay over.”

“You said…” Felix stumbled over his words and cleared his throat. “You said the bed is too small.”

Sylvain shrugged. “I’ll steal Dimitri’s mattress to take revenge for your sheets and sleep on the floor.”

“You don’t have to cancel your plans for me,” Felix said. He frowned, staring at his own knees. Pity yet again.

“I’m not,” Sylvain hedged. “I mean a little, but you were traumatized. I want to be here for you.”

Felix rolled his eyes and shoved Sylvain. He was…fine. The trapped feeling in his chest was there and he’d gotten used to it by now. It was always going to be like this and maybe that was all right.

“Do what you want,” Felix said. “I have plans.”

“You do?” Sylvain balked. “What plans?”

Felix gestured to the yard. He tried not to smirk at Sylvain’s loud laborious groan.

Sylvain stood up shaking his head and offered Felix a hand. Felix probably could have used it. His legs were fairly sore from going that long without stopping, but he waved it off and stood up on his own, leaning against the wall for support.

“Well feel free to crash at mine anyway,” Sylvain said. “Or turn your mattress upside down with new sheets.”

“I don’t want to now how you know that,” Felix said. Sylvain laughed again and Felix let himself smile back, a little.

&

Felix practiced _Thoron_ for longer than he meant to. He’d been warned about spending too much of his magic before, but he didn’t really feel like listening to anything Byleth had told him at the moment. Still, he felt dizzy by the time he made himself stop.

Felix attempted to make his way out of the training hall and got a few steps out the door before he almost pitched forward. His head felt fogged. He steadied himself against a column, wary of anyone seeing him like this, but everyone seemed to be ‘making the most of their time’ and so had little interest in him.

“You look terrible,” Connal said, speaking before Felix noticed his approach. “Do you need to go the infirmary?”

Felix shook his head. “I overtrained.”

The lack of surprise on Connal’s face said something about how much time they’d managed to spend together. Felix didn’t object to a steadying hand on his arm while they walked to the dining hall. Connal at least had the decency to try not to laugh when Felix explained why he couldn’t go back to his room. Even if he had, it wasn’t as if he had the same boisterous laugh as the last person Felix informed.

“You could stay in my room tonight,” Connal said. “It’s not as big as yours, of course.”

Felix didn’t need to follow the crowd or whatever inane advice Sylvain used to excuse lewd behavior. He did… he was curious what it felt like being so distracted he couldn’t tell which door was his own. Maybe the infantryman had been a one-off, it wasn’t as if Felix particularly liked him. Maybe it was better with someone he could stand.

“All right.”

Connal’s room was smaller than Felix’s own, but they managed. It was better than the last time. Arguably better than taking care of it himself. He didn’t like staying afterwards. Trying to sleep on a small bed, tangled up in someone who wasn’t—who wasn’t the right shape or warmth, proved fruitless.

&

They ended it right before the march to Enbarr.

“I understand,” Connal said once they’d decided. “I spent a long time pretending myself. It isn’t the easiest thing.”

Felix didn’t know how to respond to that. All he knew was that he’d settled himself to spend the rest of his life pretending. “I have to go.”

Connal nodded, his smile was strained, but not entirely false. “Good luck tomorrow, Fraldarius.”

“Same to you,” Felix said with a nod.

It felt foolish as an impulse, but it was the last night. The last night before everything might change. Felix had to take the chance that their shared tent wouldn’t be empty for once, even if that meant less to Sylvain than it did to him.

“Where’ve you been, young man?” Sylvain teased once Felix opened the flap. His smile was broad and easy, but there was the same settled unease behind his eyes that everyone was feeling.

“Did you eat?” Felix asked.

Sylvain’s expression clearly said he hadn’t. Felix threw the wrapped jerky he’d taken earlier at him. “Thanks, Fe,” Sylvain said, biting into it.

Felix nodded and got ready for bed, setting down in his bedroll next to Sylvain’s and fell asleep to the sound of both their breathing.

* * *

_(Imperial Year 1187) Unification Year 2 - Harpstring Moon_

Sylvain’s hands cradled the sides of Felix’s face. They weren’t gripping or holding hard, but something about the mere feel of them kept Felix from giving in to the urge to lurch forward. His heart banged frantically against the inside of chest as Sylvain slowly brushed his lips against his own.

Sylvain lips were wet and his teeth were solid as he enveloped Felix’s lower lip.

There hadn’t been much time (or thought) in the training grounds to let the fact that he was _kissing_ Sylvain settle in, but now that the frenetic energy had lessened it didn’t actually seem real. It was Sylvain who was stroking his thumbs over Felix’s cheekbones. It was Sylvain’s shirt that Felix was gripping for purchase as he tried to stay upright. It was Sylvain standing in Felix’s room with his tongue licking its way into Felix’s mouth.

Sylvain let out a small sigh as he brushed his nose against Felix’s. “Thinking about something?”

“You’re good at kissing,” Felix said, stupidly.

The way Sylvain grinned in response made Felix feel like shoving him and hiding behind the curtain simultaneously. “Not so bad yourself.”

Felix’s face was burning as he turned his head away, but Sylvain’s hands were still on the sides of his face and they gently drew him back into another kiss. “I’m good at other stuff too,” Sylvain murmured, kissing the corner of Felix’s mouth this time.

“It was less than an hour ago, I remember,” Felix said, still literally on fire from embarrassment and everything else. He knew Sylvain was skilled with his mouth, but he never thought he’d experience it, let alone somewhere not his own mouth.

Sylvain chuckled and then drew back a little. He looked down at Felix, the softness of his expression almost reverent.

“What?” Felix asked, wishing that he could bring himself to break Sylvain’s delicate hold on his face to get away from the intensity of his eyes only focused on him.

Sylvain’s expression didn’t change. “I never liked the idea of you being lonely and didn’t once think I could be the one to fix it.”

“ _Only_ you,” Felix said. Then he quickly cut off any response Sylvain might have had by dragging him into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> after discovering the kingsguard is one of felix's exes, sylvain loudly complains that felix said he DIDN'T know the people and felix sighs and says 'you don't, you've been calling him conner'


End file.
